


Only You

by Zeri0us



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, ArkhamVerse, Canon: Batman: Arkham City (Video Game), Grief/Mourning, M/M, One Shot, Post-Game(s), Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23015212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeri0us/pseuds/Zeri0us
Summary: Bruce revisited the Steel Mill and noticed how things had changed.(A short Arkhamverse story following the events of Arkham City.)
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Only You

**Author's Note:**

> For those who don’t know what happened in the game “Batman: Arkham City”, Joker was dying due to an overdose of a drug named “TITAN”. He poisoned Batman and hundreds of other people in Gotham with his contaminated blood in order to force Batman to find a cure for him. After a series of events, Batman managed to obtain and drink the cure, but the Joker was dead in the end as Batman dropped the vial on the ground accidentally when Joker attacked him out of desperation.
> 
> After the main plot ended, you can hear Joker singing “Only You” to Batman during the closing credits.

Sometimes, Bruce thought there were a number of things that would never change.

Such as Gotham _was_ his city. Such as he would be Batman until the day he couldn’t. Such as Alfred would be there when he returned home after patrol every night. Such as Joker would always find a way to escape Arkham Asylum despite the huge amount of money Bruce had donated to it. 

...Joker.

Bruce was back to his place. The industrial district was full of his goons even after his death. Not in a mood of fighting, Bruce grappled between rooftops to get closer to his destination. He stared at the giant hole on the second floor of the Steel Mill, wondering what would have happened if Selina hadn’t come to save him.

He remembered the fight between him and the Joker. Technically that was Clayface, and the fight hadn’t just involved two people, but still, there had been a fight. And then protocol 10 had been activated and he had suddenly been buried under rocks. If not for Talia, the Joker—Clayface, actually—would have killed him right there.

Honestly, Bruce had never expected he would need rescue by the two women he loved in a single night, but then again, he had never expected one of his greatest enemies would die tonight either.

He glided into the hole, landing on the exact location where he had been buried a few hours ago. The missile had turned this place into a complete ruin: numerous debris scattered over the floor, the smell of burnt wood filled the air. Miraculously, the door leading to Joker's office was still intact.

He approached the door slowly, one hand resting on the door handle. The weird thought of Joker hiding behind this door and ready to stab him in the gut struck him without any sense. Giving himself some time to wipe that thought out of his mind, he stood there quietly for a minute before pushing the door open.

There was nothing waiting behind the door. No laughter, no “Surrrprise!”, no mad clown. Silence was all he got. Bruce listened attentively for any sound, entering the main part of the office after confirming it was safe. Apparently, Harley didn’t want to stay in a place full of memories, or she knew Bruce would come back here. In either case, she wasn’t here, and Bruce was the only one in this office, standing all alone.

Had Joker been staying here all alone as well? Bruce walked towards the windows, bathing in the pale moonlight. He stared at the big silver moon, remembering how they had fought against each other on Gotham’s rooftops under it for the past ten years. Had he gazed through the windows like Bruce did now, sitting alone and waiting for Bruce to bring back the cure and save him?

 _You’ve failed him._ Bruce closed his eyes, feeling the familiar sense of guilt filling him like waves. He never wanted the Joker to die. He never wanted _anyone_ to die. He would have given the cure to Joker, even if he understood the consequences of saving this man again and again.

But it was too late now. Everything was too late now. It was no use defending himself against his conscience. He had had the cure, and he had failed to save the Joker.

Joker was dead because of him.

He clenched his fists so hard that his arms shook uncontrollably, then he opened his eyes, glaring at his own hands. He could still recall the lightness of Joker when he had been carrying his dead body out of Arkham City. The Joker had never been so quiet, so docile. It was nothing like him, as if Joker was never the body, but the chaotic soul inside that receptacle.

And wasn’t it the fact?

He hit the window frame with a bang, standing stiff for a few seconds, before pressing his forehead on the cold wall wearily and sitting down against the window. A wave of tiredness swamped him all of a sudden. He closed his eyes and listened to the constant humming of the working machine.

To think about it, it was quite funny how a part of you died together with the death of someone you valued. It was as if you weren’t a whole but an assemblage of numerous identity fragments instead; You were your father’s son, you were your girlfriend’s lover, you were your arch-enemy’s rival.

You weren’t never only you, but also were several other things. And when these people were gone, a tiny little bit of you was gone with them. _Forever._

Bruce opened his eyes, looking at the other exit of this office, which located at the exact opposite to his current position. Had it appeared to Joker that this place was too forlorn that it was like a giant coffin, ready to swallow a dying man at any time?

 _Are you mourning for that man?_ A voice in his head asked incredulously. _Are you mourning for a murderer who have taken thousands of lives, including your own son’s?_ The everlasting self-loathing left their hiding places and threatened to devour him, and disgust filled his chest all at once. _I’m_ **_not_ ** _mourning for the Joker_ , Bruce answered the voice irritably, _I’m just…mourning._

For nothing and for everything.

“You have one missed call. Call received three hours ago.” A mechanical female voice startled Bruce when he tried to get up and left this place. Frowning, he sat back down and looked at his gauntlet. It must be the message left by the Joker before he had died. He knew he had received this message, but he wasn’t ready to hear his voice yet.

He should turn it off right after it was mistakenly triggered, but a moment of hesitation was enough for the main message to come in. “Only you, can make all this world seem right…”

The unnerving voice of Joker started to sing an out-of-tune version of “Only You” to Bruce. He had expected urging, flirting or other meaningless nonsense, but never a song, especially not a classical love song.

_“Only you, can make all this world seem right_  
_Only you, can make the darkness bright_  
_Only you and you alone, can thrill me like you do_  
_And fill my heart with love for only you”_

Strangely, “Only You” sounded just like a song tailor-made for the Joker. He could imagine Joker holding his phone, reading the lyrics instead of singing, and trying to tell him one last time what he had told Bruce again and again for years: how Bruce was the only one that had ever mattered to him, how Bruce had changed his world, how they were destined to fight each other forever. It was until this moment that he found he could remember all the things Joker had said to him. Painfully and shockingly clear.

But it shouldn’t be surprising, really. Bruce had always paid most of his attention to Joker. No one could get the same amount of his attention like the Joker could. Joker was dangerous, unpredictable, violent, and it would be a horrible mistake if Bruce hadn’t paid intense attention to him. He had a good reason to defend himself on this topic.

...Even though the Joker was a genocidal serial killer. Even though he was no family, no friend or lover to Bruce.

Bruce had still given him more attention than any of these people had ever gotten.

And it was until now that he finally realised, there was no one else in this world that could get this much attention from him even after the Joker’s death. More terrifyingly, despite how he wanted to deny he was terrified, he knew he would never meet another person like Joker in his life.

The Joker was _gone_.

Which was supposed to be a good thing. Gotham was a lot safer without that clown. _This is good_ , he told himself, _this is good for everyone_. But why was there a feeling of emptiness in his chest? Why his heart ached when he thought of the coldness of Joker’s body when he had carried him out of the theatre, like he had died a little?

Maybe it didn't matter now. Not when he had all the time in the world to think to himself now that Joker was dead. Or maybe he had just known the answer all along.

 _“Only you, can make all this change in me_  
_For it's true, you are my destiny_  
_When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do_  
_You're my dream come true, my one and only you”_

For the time being, in this empty Steel Mill with the singing voice of Joker, Bruce could still pretend nothing had changed. Gotham was still his city, Alfred would still wait for him in the Batcave, and Joker would pop out of nowhere and laugh at Bruce for falling into his trap like back in the old days.

_“Only you, can make all this change in me_  
_For it's true, you are my destiny_  
_When you hold my hand, I understand the magic that you do_  
_You're my dream come true, my one and only you”_  


The song had come to an end and Bruce hummed along to the last line, his voice low and ragged. When the last giggles of Joker subsided, he closed his eyes, focusing on the steady rhythm of rise and fall of his chest in the deafening silence.

Sometimes, words didn’t need to be said.

Sometimes, things would never change.

And for Bruce, that was good enough.


End file.
